Just a Kiss: A Modern Fairytale
by larkxsong
Summary: Sam has until the Spring Equinox to gain a true love's kiss from Quinn Fabray, or he must face eternity in the form of a frog. But Quinn doesn't believe in fairytales, or love for that matter. How will Sam win her heart if she's closed it off for good?
1. Chapter 1

**Just a Kiss**

by larksong

**Summary: Sam Evans is unlike any other man Quinn Fabray has ever known. And while she thinks he's just one of Kurt Hummel's strange cousins, he's in, actuality, a frog prince who was enchanted into the form of a human by a spell and a kiss. Given until the Spring Equinox, Sam must receive a true love's kiss from the girl who kissed him as a frog or else he'll have to face eternity as a frog. But Quinn doesn't seem to believe in fairytales, or love for that matter. How will Sam win her heart if she's closed it off for good?**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

A child's heart is full of magic, when we're little we believe in everything. We believe that mommy's kiss can take away the pain, that a flick of a wand and a fairy godmother can make dreams come true and that someday a handsome prince will come to us on a horse and sweep us of our feet. We believed that true love exists and a kiss could change all.

But soon the magic fades, and we grow up to realize that those things don't exist. It takes more than mommy's kisses to take away pain, that there is no such thing as a fairy godmother, and that white knights on trusted steed and true love's kiss don't exist. We come to realize that there's a fine line between reality and fantasy. We grow up and we lose that magic, and soon our hearts of magic and lore are replaced with rational and realistic minds and thoughts.

Soon we lose sight of the magic behind everyday things.

But sometimes, every now and then, we are fortunate enough to have real magic enter our lives. Such happened to a young woman in New York—a young woman who closed her heart to magic. She didn't believe in magic, or in love, but one moment changed everything, and soon she found her world turned upside down and resembling some of the beloved tales of her past.

And it all started with just a kiss..

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><p>You would think that "the end of the world" would be marked by devastating storms, natural disasters, important figures' deaths, invaders from outer space—Any scary sounding threat. This was not the case for Quinn Fabray. Her reason for throwing a $146 vintage Tiffany Table lamp to the wall while crying out that "her life was over!" was not even remotely close to any of those. It had all to do with a text message and a lacy white invitation received in the mail.<p>

_Sorry Q. This isn't working babe. I think we need to take a break. Permanently. _

That was what her boyfriend of a year and a half, Puck, sent her that morning as she took a shower, getting ready to head to the small theater on 47th where she was a seamstress to a small drama crew. Her first reaction to that was to chuck her phone across the room, sending it with a bang to the wall, and a good long cry on the floor of her apartment. Quinn and Noah "Puck" Puckerman had been in a relationship for almost two years and were getting serious on Quinn's standard. Sure, they were highly mismatched. He was a mohawked "bad boy", the bartender at a pretty popular nightclub in the city, and she was the good girl from Charleston, South Carolina's elite upper class. They met when Quinn's two best friends, Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel, dragged her to the club for a night of fun, a great change from all the drag club the two gay men took the girl to for a "fun night". And, to her luck, Quinn's night ended with the girl flirting up a storm with the handsome man behind the bar and even giving him her number. That wasn't like Quinn. Normally, she was reserved, not one to give her number out just like that, and yet there she was, handing him her number on the back of a napkin, and a year and a half later and she could've sworn Puck was going to ask her to become Mrs. Puckerman.

Instead, Quinn got dumped, in a text message.

That however, was not what pushed Quinn to her throwing around the contents of her small studio apartment's living room all over the place while declaring her "life and world to be over". The one thing that pushed Quinn to this point of pure anger was when she decided to look past her random and unconventional break up with Puck by getting dressed and heading to the theater, deciding to stop to get her mail before leaving. Thumbing through the short stack of envelopes, she almost missed it when she saw something pink and lacy fall to the floor of the foyer of the apartment building she lived on. Looking down at the ground, her eyes widened slightly as she realized what it was. A wedding invitation… But whose? Picking it up, the air was knocked from out of Quinn as she came to the realization of whose wedding invitation she held.

_Mr. & Mrs. Edgar Berry request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter  
><em>_Rachel Barbra  
><em>_to  
><em>_Finn Christopher Hudson,  
><em>_son of Mrs. Carole Hudson,  
><em>_Sunday, the Eighteenth of March Two Thousand and Twelve  
><em>_Five o'clock in the afternoon  
><em>_Kiawah Island Resort,  
><em>_South Carolina_

Finn Hudson—_her_ Finn Hudson, the boy she had loved since her childhood days in Charleston, South Carolina—was getting _married_. Married! Here she was, heartbroken from a text message only to find out that the boy she had left behind in South Carolina, who she had envisioned either marrying her or living alone, was now getting married, and to _Rachel Berry_ of all people! Her memories of Rachel were of a short, stick thin, big nosed and loud-mouthed teenage drama queen whom no one really liked. How did Finn, the captain of the football team and most popular boy in school, son of one of Charleston's most well known District Attorneys—now deceased—and Historic Preservers, end up falling in love with the abrasive and annoying Rachel Berry? The captain of their high school's loser Glee Club? It made no sense to her, but that wasn't what killed her so much. Finn was marrying someone else.

Quinn experienced the furry of two heartbreaks in the span of twenty minutes and her only solution was to scream, throw her mail all over and take the invitation up to her apartment where she butchered it with a pair of scissors, stomped on it, and threw it into the filthy kitchen trash can. But that wasn't the end of her fury. She followed it by grabbing that expensive vintage lamp and thrusting it across the room to collide with the wall. Soon after, her bookcase was turned over, the floor littered with dozens of books, a coffee table laid upside down on the floor, and remnants of a glass vase lay scattered on the floor. Her entire living room was turned over and the girl lay, a crying mess, amongst the many pillows of her queen sized bed, face buried into the pillows as she let out her last bit of heartbreak into tears. "Why me?" she whimpered pathetically. This was uncharacteristic of Quinn. She hardly ever was the victim, hardly ever let this kind of heartache bring her down. Normally she'd curse the man to hell and drown her sorrows away with drinks with her two best friends in the world. But that wasn't the case this time, not when Finn was getting married and her presence was requested not as the bride but as an attendee to the wedding. How was she supposed to stay poised and collected? If her mother saw her now, she'd be ashamed, and Kurt and Blaine would try desperately to remind her of the strong confident woman she was. But Quinn didn't want to hear that now. She wanted to cry her heart out and forget how her day started.

"Love is a curse," she hissed, sitting up and talking to no one. She sniffed and wiped her running mascara off her cheeks, not at all bothered over the smudge on her sleeve. "This is why I don't do love. You fall for some guy and he breaks your heart over text. Then you can't get over some silly childhood crush and feel heartbroken over it when you find out he's getting married," she grunted. "Stupid, stupid love." She would've sounded crazy, talking to the wall, if it weren't for the soft whimper and the golden dog jumping up onto her bed. She sighed and sniffed as she ran her hand over the back of the puppy, feeling his soft fir below her fingertips. "The only kind of love in this world I want is the love of a pint of Ben and Jerry's—double fudge—and you, Arthur. I love you boy!" The French bull dog's tail wagged in delight as she scratched behind his ears, smiling through her tears as she pet him all over.

It was then that she noticed the rolled up leash caught in his jaw. She raised an eyebrow, "Ah. You want to go out for a bit, boy?" She sighed, getting up and reaching for her tan trench coat she threw to the floor. Pulling it over her shoulders and using a napkin to wipe off her face, she smiled at the dog as he sat at the edge of her bed, taking the leash and attaching it to his collar. "A walk through central park sounds wonderful," she sighed, leading the dog out the apartment and towards the busy streets of New York City.

Many things were instant cures to heartache for Quinn. Audrey Hepburn marathons, sizzling bacon, a good book, but most of all would be a stroll through Central Park. Back home a walk along the beaches of South Carolina was always a cure for her pain. Quinn generally loved the outdoors, and fresh air always did wonders for her headaches caused after crying. So walking through Central Park was definitely a good idea. She smiled to the faces passing by, glad she fixed her appearance and made herself more presentable. It was kind of cold out, being mid February, but Quinn honestly didn't mind. She was wearing her favorite Audrey-esque trench coat and thick stockings. And she was more than willing to go out into the cold to walk through the park. It looked good regardless of the leafless trees or the mush of snow off the side of the sidewalk. Arthur enjoyed himself, sniffing at the slightly damp grass as they strolled along.

"Arthur, I'm getting tired," she said to the dog, whose ears perked at his name. He gave her a large and happy looking puppy grin as she directed him towards a fountain. Sitting on a dry edge, she ran her fingers over Arthur's furry head before unclipping his leash from his collar. "No don't you wander too far and give me a heart attack," she said, lifting him up a moment to kiss his moist nose. Setting him back down, Quinn watched with a smile as Arthur walked a small distance away from her and sniffed at the ground curiously as he did, barking as he stumbled upon an ant or something. She giggled and sighed, looking up at the sky. It was late afternoon by now, but the sky was grey with thick clouds. "Wonder if it'll snow," she thought aloud. A sigh escaped her lips as she was left alone to her thoughts.

Finn Hudson, getting married. Quinn was still unsure about her feelings towards that. Walking with Arthur reminded her that she didn't need to cry a river over Puck breaking it off with her. In some ways, Quinn saw that coming from the womanizer. He'd begged her that they were to the point where sex should be introduced into the relationship, but she wouldn't give it unless he put a ring on it. The break up, at this point, was long forgotten… But news that Finn Hudson, her darling Finn Hudson, was to tie the knot, and with Charleston's biggest loser, definitely set Quinn on edge, and she just couldn't shake it off. _Why her?_ She wondered to herself. _Why Rachel?_ Last time she'd seen Finn, he wanted nothing to do with the brunette who seemed to have an obsessive crush on him. In fact, he wanted Quinn. They were Prom King and Queen, both Junior and Senior years. They were the most popular kids in school; he was captain of the football team and she captain of the Cheerleading Squad. They made sense together, he and Quinn. Finn and Rachel, though… That made no sense in Quinn's book. How that match was made was beyond her.

Once more full of frustration and the fresh searing pain of heartbreak, Quinn was almost too distracted to hear the giggles and whispers of a group of little girls to the side. For some reason, a cluster of four little girls, possibly no older than eight, seemed more interesting than her sorrows. Possibly because she wanted not to think about Finn's upcoming nuptials anymore, but for whatever reason Quinn's attention was turned to them. They appeared to be huddled around something, something that had to be moving since they would let out a squeal and fit of giggles before shifting further along the side of the fountain. Quinn even heard one girl say, in a not so low whisper, "It's getting away! Beth, go after it!"

In that moment, the blonde woman saw a flash of green followed by an adorable girl with blonde hair and big round, deep brown eyes. The girl—this "Beth"—was chasing after the quick greenish thing and it didn't take long for Quinn to realize what was going on. Beth was following after a frog, a small and green frog. The frog didn't seem much like the frogs Quinn had seen in her lifetime. Most frogs she had seen were a dull brownish green, dirty looking, but this frog was smooth and a deep forest green color. He wouldn't be noticeable amongst the rich colored blades of grass in the south, but against the cream colored stones below he stood out.

The girls were rushing after him as he leapt far ahead. Quinn couldn't help but smile and laugh softly at the sight, turning herself to watch as Beth and the girls huddled quietly about a foot from the frog, who had stopped hopping, preparing to catch him slowly. They whispered to one another, attempting to plan out how to trap him and catch him, but Quinn didn't pay attention before getting up and going to kneel beside him. "Are you trying to catch him?" she asked, causing them to jump a little. The frog leapt ahead by a foot or so and Quinn laughed, "I'm sorry. I scared him away." The girls exchanged odd looks before Beth, the blonde one, stepped towards Quinn.

"Miss, do you think you can help us? We really wanna catch Mr. Froggy and see if he's a prince," she said. Quinn held back an urge to roll her eyes, though she wouldn't normally display such an action for little girls. She looked at the frog, sitting still a couple feet away, before looking back at Beth. The girl's big doe eyes were pleading and Quinn, while not one to easily give into puppy faces, could not refuse that. With a small nod, she turned her attention to the frog, smiling at the hushed gasps and sounds of excitement elicted from the small girls behind her. Slowly, she crept up to the frog. At barely a foot away, Quinn waited silently and carefully before nearly jumping forward.

Before the frog was able to react, Quinn had him caught in her fists. She heard the girls squeal in delight as Quinn straightened and cradled something in her closed hands. She watched them circle her, all speaking at once with requests to see him and thanks for her catching him. She smiled as she knelt down between them and carefully opened her hand to reveal the emerald frog sitting in her hands. "Wow," the girls gasped, looking at him for a long moment. He was sitting still in Quinn's hand, which shocked the blonde as she showed him off to the girls.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool, hm?" she asked, smiling as some of the girls brushed their fingers over his slightly moist back. "What should we name him?"

The girls all gave thoughtful looks, but it was Beth that spoke up. "Sam! We'll name him Sam!"

Quinn raised the frog to the level of her face, looking him over closely. Her expressions caused the girls to laugh. "Sam seems like a perfect name," she declared. The girls all cheered at that. Quinn just smiled, finding her day to have turned infinitely better.

For a moment, the girls turned their backs to Quinn. She was about to set the frog down and grab Arthur when she felt someone tug at her sleeve. She looked down to see Beth once more looking at her with pleading doe eyes. "Miss?" she asked, Quinn nodding to show her she was listening. The girl bit her lip before looking back at her friends, the others urging her to talk. With a pleading glance, Beth looked up at Quinn, asking, "Well, my friends and I want to know if Sam's a prince… Could you kiss him?"

Quinn blinked. While the girl in front of her was adorable and Quinn didn't find it in her heart to say not to children, the request was insane. She couldn't help but think about how insanitary that would be, pressing her lips to the back of the frog. She had no idea where it had been for Christ's sake! And lord knows that odd deep green tone of his skin was probably the product of some venomous toxic waste or something. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought, but Quinn couldn't verbally refuse just yet, not when she met four pairs of large pleading eyes. Damn her for not being able to refuse that.

She swallowed, "I don't know, what if he's not a handsome prince?"

The girls frowned after that. It appeared they understood that Quinn had no desire to kiss the frog. For a moment she found a sense of relief, but she couldn't help but feel bad when she saw their heads hung and saw them looking away in sadness. Biting her lip, Quinn felt she was at a crossroads. Throw all sanitary warnings aside and kiss the frog? Or break these little girl's hearts and not kiss it? Her gaze wandered to the green creature sitting still in her hands. How odd, his eyes matched that emerald green of his skin and seemed to catch the sunlight in the most beautiful way. They were strange and once more she wondered where this animal had been.

With a soft sigh, Quinn looked at the girls. "I guess we can only find out if he is one with a kiss, right?" She saw their faces light up as they came around to crowd Quinn as she knelt down. Arthur had snuck up behind her as well, trying to push into the crowd to see what Quinn was holding. With a deep breath, Quinn looked at the still frog. Something in its odd eyes seemed so… Inviting. It was as if he was asking her to kiss him. She threw away the way her skin crawled at that and slowly lowered her head towards him.

Millimeters away, she heard the girls suck in sharp and excited breaths as, slowly, Quinn's soft lips touched the moist and slimy back of the frog. The second she made contact with it, she felt the creature shiver beneath her, and felt a tingly sensation along her skin. It was odd and she couldn't quite place if it was good or bad, but it caused her to instantly pull away. She blinked and stared at the green frog, hearing a low croak escape it.

"Aw, no prince," one of the girls said, though Quinn hardly paid attention. In a flash second, the frog was in the air, leaping out of Quinn's hand and towards the grass. Soon he was gone, vanishing like a chameleon that changed color. The girls let out sounds of disappointment, but Quinn just shrugged as she stood up. With the shouts of their mothers calling them away the girls each offered Quinn a thank you and their apologies for her not gaining a prince.

She laughed, "I guess it just wasn't meant to be." She waved at them as they left, seeing Beth turn around and offer a toothy grin. Her smile, while sweet, seemed odd and peculiar, and caused Quinn to shiver in a strange sense.

She watched the blonde girl walk away, following after another girl and her mother, until she felt something jump onto her leg and heard whimpers. She smiled down at Arthur, patting his head. "Alright, boy. Let's go. I should stop by the theater to let Kurt and Blaine know I'm alive anyway." With one last wistful glance to where the blonde girl disappeared to, Quinn clipped the leash onto the dog's collar and began walking away, forgetting all about the moment she kissed the frog or the strange look in the small girl's eyes.

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><p>Nighttime fell over New York, like a blanket of twinkled darkness falling over the sky. The streets were alight with lampposts, streetlights, and cars, and while it was late, the city was very much alive with sounds. Car horns blared in the distance and people shouted across the way. To his acute senses, the frog didn't seem highly phased by the noises outside of the park he lived in. Then again, he didn't seem to think much of anything—he was a frog, for crying out loud! The area by the fountain was empty tonight and he carefully crept out from where he'd stayed hidden in the dark grasses that blended with his skin. Hopping, he made his way back to the fountain, making a large and powerful leap off of his hind legs to reach the edge of it. Instantly, he fell beside a small girl who had been sitting there since sunset. After the blonde woman had left, leaving a kiss on the back of the frog behind, the blonde girl had returned. She smiled at her old friend, gently lifting him up onto her lap and carefully brushing her fingertips over the back where the soft lips of Quinn Fabray had previously been.<p>

The spot began glowing beneath Beth's fingertips and the glow slowly began to expand up along the girl's fingers until, soon, it engulfed her body, a bright green glow. Slowly, the glowing figure began to change until, soon, she was a whole other figure. She was taller now, with more pointed features. Her skin was paler, much like the moon, and her body was more curved, with round curves, much like an hourglass. As the glow left her skin, going back to that spot on the back of the frog, she became clearer in view. Her pointed facial features were far different than the soft girlish features she had just a few moments before. The only thing that made her remotely similar to before were those large and deep brown eyes.

Smiling sweetly down at the frog, she continued to stroke that glowing spot, watching the light dim beneath his skin. "She was a good one," Beth said softly and lowly, "This Quinn. Perfect to trap and use to bring you to life." She let out a laugh, an airy and happy sounding one, as she slowly brought the frog up to her own lips, kissing over the spot. "My spell has been activated, dear frog. With her kiss, you shall be brought to life, but only for a short time. It's the twenty first of the last month of Winter. You have exactly one month until the Spring Equinox." She set him down on the edge of the fountain, patting him gently. "Go now. If she gives you one more kiss, this time a kiss of true and infinite love, upon your human lips, then you will be free."

With another pat to his back, the frog went flying, long and powerful limps taking him farther than before. "But heed my warning," Beth's voice carried with the wind, echoing in his mind, as he flew farther and farther away with each leap. "If you do not gain a kiss of true love by the day of the Spring Equinox, you shall resume the shape of a frog for all time and eternity. Such is the price you pay for making a deal with the Queen of Fae." The threatening declaration echoed in his mind but it was far from the frog's thoughts as he jumped farther and farther, soon leaving the park and leaping into the busy streets of New York. He had his wish granted, the Queen of Fae's spell was activated and would soon take effect. Now all he had to do was gain a kiss of true love in a month. That couldn't be hard to come by. A princess had kissed him once, surely she would do it again.

With the luck of the gods in his heart, the frog leapt and leapt, following the path of his heart through the dirty crowded streets of New York—coming closer and closer to Quinn…

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><p>Exhaustion had taken Quinn the previous night. After her stroll through Central Park with Arthur, the woman returned to her apartment to drop off the dog before heading to the theater on 47th. She knew if she had not made an appearance, Kurt and Blaine would think the worst. Working as the only female member of an all-gay drag queen Theater Company seemed an odd job, but the blonde enjoyed it. She always had a knack for fashion, specifically design, and had found much pleasure in the strange job of designing and creating outrageous outfits for the gay studs who played infamous roles in drag queen productions of Broadway's finest. Currently they were working on an all gay production of West Side Story. Blaine would be Tony and Kurt would be Maria, the couple that had been together for nearly four years, when Quinn first arrived in New York, and having started the company together, starring in everything. Today was to be the first dress rehearsal and Quinn was supposed to be there to fix any wardrobe malfunctions.<p>

When she got there, she was greeted with a mountain of wardrobe issues, as well as the desperate and concerned cries of Kurt Hummel. He was much like her best girlfriend, always looking out for her well being and always there to offer the best lady advice Quinn could seek no where else while in New York. It was far unlike Quinn to be as late as she was without notice, and only Kurt could draw conclusions that that meant it was something serious. After hearing of the break up and the wedding invitation, Kurt was the first to engulf Quinn in a hug and offer her a margarita instantly prepared by their snobby newcomer, Sebastian Smythe. Quinn accepted the drink before sitting down to have a long girl chat with Kurt. It was Blaine who had to pull Kurt away for rehearsal and get Quinn to sit down and work on the costume malfunctions. It wasn't until the end of the day that they got a chance to talk again.

After a lengthy discussion about Finn and the wedding, Quinn highlighting everything about herself and Finn that made them far more perfect for one another than the tall quarterback of her past and the loser he was marrying, Kurt and Blaine's only offer of advice was to forget about him and get drunk with them. The cast was off to a drag bar in order to celebrate a successful dress rehearsal, but Quinn wasn't interested in that. Besides, forgetting about Finn was something she couldn't do. With a promise she was fine and needed a classic movie and a pink of double fudge ice cream, Quinn left the theater to go back home. And she did just that; she settled in bed with those two things and stayed up half the night crying over _Casablanca_ and _An Affair to Remember._ Once her pint was gone and her wine glass had gone dry, Quinn's only solution was to cry herself to sleep and, before dawn, she was fast asleep in her bed.

So when morning had finally come, it was expected of the girl to be annoyed at the loud blaring of her alarm clock. The blonde reached over and smacked the snooze button, groaning a "I'm awake, I'm awake," as if the object were alive and interested to know this. Grumbling under her breath, she slowly relaxed back into her pillows, disproving her exclamations of being awake by slowly drifting back to sleep. Her senses were still alive, though, and Quinn swore she heard faint breathing, breathing that wasn't her own. She figured it was Arthur at the foot of the bed, but the breathing didn't fit the deep sleepy breaths of her companion.

It was then that she felt something shift behind her. _Yes, that's Arthur._ She felt the shifting continue, feeling something move up closer to her body. She took no notice in the size of it, imagining her pooch creeping up behind her. Put then she felt something on her shoulder, what she just assumed to be his paw. "Arthur, let me sleep a bit and then I'll take you out front," she mumbled. To her surprise, she wasn't met with a bark or whimper, really any sound that the dog would make. There was no noise at all, just the breathing.

Before she could say anything, Quinn felt hot breath against her ear, and heard a low and unfamiliar voice whisper, "Wake up, Princess." Her first instinct was that she was simply imagining it, that this was a dream. But she realized the slight weight on her shoulder was not a dream, nor a paw. It was larger, with long fingers that folded over her shoulder. It was a hand. In an instant, her eyes flew open. She sucked in a breath as she turned over, her wide honey colored eyes meeting with a pair of the richest and deepest emerald eyes she'd ever seen in her life. And while these eyes were beautiful, they, along with the handsome face they belonged to, were anything _but_ familiar. It was then that she realized that laying beside her was a tall and gorgeous man, with a mess of blonde hair, broad shoulders, a muscular physique, and a pair of oddly large and plump pink lips that were turned up in the most brilliant smile she'd ever seen.

Frozen in the spot, Quinn just stared at him, unable to move or think as he smiled down at her. "I'm so glad you're awake. You see, I—" His deep voice was quickly drowned out in a loud and piercing shriek that came from the blonde woman as she jumped out of the bed. It had been as she ogled him and listening to him talk that Quinn came to two realizations: One, there was a stranger in her bed. And two, he was not wearing any clothing.

The man, whoever he was, seemed shocked as she got up, but Quinn ignored that as she shouted, at the top of her lungs, "Who the hell are you and why are you laying naked in my bed!"

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><p><em>I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This is my first story on and I'm a little nervous. lol. <em>

_Anyway, please leave a review. I already have Chapter two finished, but I'll post it after I hear what you guys have to say about Chapter One. :) _

_Also, this story is dedicated to my pals The Fabrevans Bubble. Chuck, Winnie, Brie, Bria, Krys, and Aly. Love you guys forever. 3  
>And also, dedicated to my Arlene. My Charlie. My Quinn. My best web-friend. 3 <em>


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thank you for all the positive feedback. Sorry this was kinda late. I've actually had this done for a while now. It's not as good as the first chapter, but I hope you continue to enjoy it. :) Leave me a review to let me know._**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Nothing quite said good morning like waking up to a completely naked and unfamiliar man lying beside you calling you Princess. But such was the way Quinn Fabray had woken up. She couldn't quite add this to a long list of "strange ways to wake up" or anything, because, quite honestly, nothing quite like this had ever happened before, but it was definitely the strangest way to wake up. In that moment her mind was swimming with hundreds of different ideas and questions. First of all, who the hell was he? And now did he get up into her room? Then she had to ask herself why was he there? Of course that lead to fear and disgust as countless perverted and scary thoughts sunk in. What if he was some kind of serial rapist? Or what if he was an escapee from the insane asylum? Was there even one close enough for that? She honestly didn't care to ponder on that cause only two thoughts were in her head. One, was he gonna try and rape her? And two, where's the damn pepper spray?

Quinn sat lost in these thoughts until she heard a, "Princess?", which caused her to jump away in an instant. Off the bed, Quinn jumped nearly a foot away from it towards her window and continued staring with wide eyes at her bed intruder. _Pepper spray!_ Her heart leapt with joy at the realization that she had some pepper spray in her bag. Quickly, eyes still on the curious looking blonde, who, at this point, was standing and trying to make his way to her, Quinn rummaged through her bag until finding just what he wanted. Just when the naked man was about to round the corner of her bed and approach her, she held up the small spray bottle and, in a shaky and rather weak voice, croaked, "Don't come closer! I will spray you!"

In an instant the blonde man stopped, brow furrowed in confusion. He literally looked as though he found her behavior odd, though he didn't speak up. With her eyes locked onto him, Quinn sucked in a rather sharp breath through her nose as she tried to regain her composure. She couldn't come off as weak. She saw those self defense episodes of the daytime talk shows. She needed him to know she wasn't a weakling that he could easily take advantage of. No. This was Quinn's terrain, she had the upper hand over him here. After a moment passed between them, Quinn spoke up. "Who are you and _why _are you here?"

She had to admit, Quinn wasn't sure why, when she had him frozen in spot, had full advantage of the situation, she had decided, of all things, to ask who he was and what he was doing there instead of trying to kick him out. Was she giving him an upper hand of sorts here? Was she giving him a window of opportunity to do whatever gruesome thing he had planned for when the beauty woke up? She swallowed back the putrid and dirty taste in her mouth at that thought and tried to keep her hands from shaking. The logical thing that her rational mind was shouting at her to do right then was spray the living shit out of his eyes and shove him out the door, yet she desired an explanation. Besides, at close look… She couldn't help but find him to seem rather… Harmless.

With a cock of her head, Quinn took a moment to really observe her guest and, to her dismay, her serial rapist actually reminded her much of a lost looking puppy, pouting and shaking slightly under her intense gaze, and his features did not scream "Crazy" or "Suspicious" in the slightest bit. His smile, though faded into a cute dog-like pout, was actually rather cute. While his large lips were odd looking, she would admit, his smile was breathtakingly beautiful, and the pout he wore now was no less than adorable if she were being honest. His face was slightly rounded, oddly boyish, yet the line of his jaw was manly. And the mop of blonde hair, that looked as though it may have been died or highlighted, atop his head gave him an odd youthful look, with thick bangs draping over his forehead, and locks of whispy hair flying out by his ears and at the nape of his neck.

Then there were his eyes. His eyes were soft and gentle, like that of an innocent child, and were the deepest green she'd ever seen. Even under the horribly low lighting of her room, the only source of light being from the sun seeping through the drapes over her window, they shone brightly, as if having a light of their own to reflect so brilliantly. It was honestly hard for her to concentrate when looking into them, feeling her head spinning and her heard fluttering at the sight of them alone.

For a moment, Quinn was lost in those green eyes, the owner of which seemed about ready to finally speak up at the sight of her tense body relaxing a bit, but then her gaze dropped down to the rest of her visitor. The only thing that convinced her he was a psycho was the incredibly manly and _bare_ physique of her visitor. His handsome face stood atop and long and broad shouldered body. She would hate to be the first to admit it, but the muscular and well-defined plains of the chest before her were mouthwatering and impressive. The rippling of his abdomen, those hard looking pectorals, the thick broad shoulders, and his large looking arms were all definitely pleasurable to the eye. Were most rapist so damn hot?

Her eyes continued wandering lower until, for a split second, they rested on the organ hanging between his legs. It was then she was brought from her dreaming. Blushing madly, she raised her gaze up to anywhere but him. Her mind was swimming now with the picture of what she just saw. _Oh my god, you just stared at his privates!_ Not that she could be blamed, the man made absolutely no effort to hide it. Yet Quinn, a young lady who had been born into privilege in the South, did _not_ stare at naked men right in the private zone. That was not classy, and definitely not her. Damn her frazzled state and hanging around gay men all the time. Damn this rapist and his sexy body. What was worst about this whole situation was the man didn't seem the slightest bit aroused. Was she supposed to be offended by that as she was? Here she was, the victim of quite possibly a raping, and the man wasn't even ready to go. Was she not pretty?

Quinn shook her head at the realization that her question had gone unanswered and the two had been standing there for far too long. "Well? Go on answer me. Who are you?" she urged with a stronger, firmer voice.

The man seemed to take a moment to consider what she was asking. In an instant, he straightened his body, almost regally, but then bent in a slight bow. "Pardon me, princess," he spoke in a deep voice that sent shivers over her, though not completely in a good way, "I didn't mean to cause any fright. I just couldn't stop myself from coming to see you, and your bed looked awfully inviting. For a moment, I thought I'd have to be the one to kiss you to break a spell. Funny, huh?" He laughed softly. In all honesty, Quinn thought he was making no sense, and she didn't hide that with her wrinkled nose and raised eyebrow. The man sighed. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sam," he said it simply, though proudly, as if the title were of such deep importance.

For a long moment, Sam just stood there, smiling widely and almost expectantly, as if waiting on her to recognize him. Quinn returned the large smile with a vacant expression that made Sam's heart fall and his smile falter. Clearing his throat, he tried to step towards her, only to see her raise the spray bottle. "Don't be afraid, princess, I am here because your heart summoned me. After the kiss in the park, you set my soul free, and I just had to come here to finish the spell. Your heart called me here, and now we've no time to waste." With another step forward, Sam grinned at Quinn. "One kiss can break the spell, princess—One true love's kiss can break all spells and make one whole." Quinn stood frozen in spot, eyes wide though she wasn't sure if it was because of how ridiculous and weird this all sounded or if she was simply entrapped by those emerald eyes. Vaguely familiar emerald eyes…

Before she could think to wonder where she'd seen them, Sam was before her, closing in on her and gently pushing down her hands. She felt one of his warm hands cup her chin and tilt her head back. She just let him, let him move up to her and force her to look up at him. She saw a brilliant and wide smile grow on his face and she wasn't sure what to think of it. Should she find it suspicious or just appreciate the beauty of it? A war of rationality and emotion was taking place within her as she looked up into the handsome face, one that had her so distracted she barely noticed the face leaning closer towards her or the slight pucker of lips until his nose brushed up against hers.

Quinn was faced with two options: Let the odd stranger talking about "spells" and "true love's kisses" steal a kiss from her lips, or kick him in the groin and get away before he had the chance to do anything else. In that moment, her rational mind overcame all functions of her body, reminding her he could be on the verge of taking full advantage of her weak state. She spared no moment as her knee moved upwards into his groin, causing a high pitched yelp of pain to escape the throat of the blonde man. Jumping back a bit, her next move was to raise her hands, just as Sam's head flew up and he started to speak, saying, "Princes—" but the last syllable was drowned out in his own cry of pain as, without any mercy, Quinn clicked the bottle's top and sent a spray of stinging hot liquid right into those beautiful emerald eyes.

Shrieking in pain, Sam's hands left his aching in pain crotch and flew to his eyes, as his pathetically stumbled around the room. Quinn watched, heart racing, as he hit a small table corner, tripped over her coat on the floor. At this point, Arthur was awake and barking at the closed door. That combined with the sounds of Sam thumping around and crying in pain made for quite loud noise.

This was Quinn's chance, as she now had the upper hand on him, and she wasted no time in putting her plan to get the man out in action. Swiftly, she ran up behind him and began shoving, pushing him out the bedroom of her door and down the narrow hallway towards the living room and entryway of her apartment. Along the way, she shouted about "indecency" and "calling the cops" if he ever were to try and climb his way into her bedroom again, letting him know that he was a fool for "daring to even try and mess with Quinn Fabray". With a violent shove from the small blonde woman, which nearly knocked her down more than it could to him, Sam was pushed out the door. He turned immediately and tried opening his eyes, ignoring the watery and stinging sensation in them as his blurry vision befell Quinn. "But, wait, princess, the kiss!" His unfinished exclamation was ignored with the slamming of a door. Heartbroken in and instant, confused, and in searing pain, Sam's only solution was to walk down the four flights of stairs from room 4A until he was out in the sunlight of day.

* * *

><p>"Hurry, Blaine!" Kurt Hummel urged his boyfriend along, grasping his hand from behind and tugging. Blaine's only response was to let out a laugh, a low and gravely one from deep in his chest. Squeezing his boyfriend's hand, the short dark haired male followed after the other eagerly.<p>

For the second time in a row, Quinn had been late. While she had explained the night prior why she hadn't been on time without notice, this still bothered the owners of the theater company—especially Kurt. Kurt liked to say he and Quinn were very close, closer than she was to any of her acquaintances she had made sine arriving to New York perhaps four or so years ago. The soprano, by which he was most notably known for, was somewhat the best girlfriend she had around New York, however he was much better than her friends from back home in Charleston, and she honestly couldn't imagine a life without Kurt in it. He was special, her dearest friend, and today he was quite worried for her.

That was why he and Blaine Anderson, the other owner of the theater company comprised of only gay drag queens, as well as his darling boyfriend, were on their way to her apartment building. It wasn't far from the theater, hence the walking, but it seemed Kurt was in a desperate hurry, knocking down people and causing some anger as he tugged and pulled Blaine through the crowds of New Yorkians.

"Sweetheart, we should slow down," Blaine, ever sweet Blaine, tried to convince his boyfriend, who's only response was to speed up their pace.

"No time," Kurt replied, "We need to hurry up and find out what the hell is going on with Quinnie! She is never this late."

Finally arriving to the apartment building, Kurt was about to rush into the front glass doors but stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Blaine to bump into him. Any complaint from his brunette boyfriend was drowned out as the large sapphire eyes of Kurt Elizabeth Hummel settled on the figure hunched over on the first step. Long and lean, muscular seemingly _everywhere_, sat a man with a mop of blonde hair and a physique that instantly reminded him of the creature from _Rocky Horror_. It was a shame to Kurt that he got no look at the man's face, which was buried in his hands, but he did get a look at much more. He wouldn't be the first to openly ogle a man—okay, he would—but he was at that moment. Because this muscular blonde… Was naked.

Yes, sitting on the front stoop of the apartment building, of which Kurt forgot why he was going to, was a naked mopey man. Kurt was curious as to what the face looked like until it raised itself up a bit, to reveal watery and breathtaking emerald eyes. Excitement rose up within him and, in a flash second, Kurt was tugging at Blaine's elbow. "Feast your eyes on that fine piece of man specimen," Kurt cooed lowly in his boyfriend's ears. Both eyes fell upon Sam, who had seemed to notice them through his blurry vision.

Blaine frowned. To him, the man looked like a depressing and handsome youngster who may have had his heartbroken, not caring he was in violation of a law by being naked in the public eye. To Kurt, however, the man looked like the tool that could be used for those dirty fantasies he'd recently been sharing with Blaine in order to spark up their dulling love life.

To Sam, the two men looked oddly curious. One was short, with very dark hair that looked shiny under the sun, though he wasn't sure why. It was as if he'd put some sort of grease in it to make it sit in place. His eyebrows were thick, the shape of triangles, and sat atop two very deep chocolate colored eyes, that seemed rather sad. The other man was a bit more interesting. His state of dress was odd, because Sam wasn't entirely sure why a man was wearing both a skirt and a pair of pants. The culture of this place was rather odd to him. But that wasn't all that caused Sam to stare at him a bit longer. His built was practically that of a woman, though Sam could tell that was no woman. Thin and lean, his features were soft and feminine, even in the face. His nose was rather pointed and his face was rounded. He looked barely a boy yet was obviously old enough to be considered a man. His hair, a chocolate brown color, was perfectly placed over his head and set deep in his porcelain face were two sapphires that passed as eyes.

The thing to mostly interest Sam about the second male was the way he stared at him, and, for a moment, he wondered if he should be scared for his life as he listened into the hushed conversation being held by the two men standing but a foot away.

"Blaine, he's a naked hot man moping on the steps of an apartment. Clearly Allah is answering my prayers for us to get more adventurous." Sam didn't know what he was talking about, but the way the feminine looking man looked at him reminded him of a lioness about to charge on a gazelle. He was praying this wasn't the hag that got Hansel and Gretel cause his legs simply couldn't be cooked and passed off as yummy frog legs anymore.

"I realize he's a naked hot man, but don't you find that slightly weird? Maybe we shouldn't pay him any attention." Oh Sam definitely liked this male, he was less scary looking, wasn't giving him "hungry eyes".

The other, the lioness, just rolled his eyes at the sweeter male and began taking steps forward. Sam's heart picked up with fear. _The hag's going to eat me._ He watched as the man came close to him, offering him an oddly friendly smile. "Had a hard night, sir?" He let out an oddly airy laugh. Sam just sat staring up at him. He was an odd fellow, even his voice sounded much like a woman's. Not that there was anything wrong with that, Sam was just taken highly off guard as he stared at him.

"Not much of a talker, I see," Kurt said awkwardly, taking a seat beside the blonde against Blaine's hushed protests. He offered a hand, staring the blonde boy right in the eyes. "Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, the greatest star in New York. Just call me Kurt," he tried to smile widely and break whatever awkward ice was between him and the blonde, but only received a vacant stare in reply. "Don't shake hands where you're from?" He laughed awkwardly at him.

In an instant the blonde went from looking highly uncomfortable to calming himself. He reached over and grasped the soft hand, shaking gently. "Sam," he answered. "And I'm sorry, I'm just not of high spirits right now," the man said, returning his face to his eyes to rub at the pain that he still felt in his eyes. It hadn't quite overcome the heartache of being thrown out by his true love, but damn did his eyes hurt like hell. This did not go unnoticed by Kurt.

"I'm sorry, hon. Why don't you tell Kurt what's wrong? Tell me why you're crying." There was an odd tone to his voice that Sam couldn't quite place, though Blaine could sense the flirty edge to his boyfriend's voice. New York had brought out the worst in his high school sweetheart, who was slightly more timid back home in Ohio when they were the only gays around. Now, though, in New York, Kurt was much more flamboyant, more confident in his skin and, if Blaine didn't find that so damn sexy, he'd considered it a sin.

"My love didn't want me. And I cry only because she sprayed something in my eyes." Kurt's heart fell at "she". Clearly this man was not going to be fulfilling his hot threesome fantasies, but he definitely did feel sympathetic. With all sexual prowl through out the window, he frowned and faced the man more appropriately, wondering what could've lead to a crying naked man sitting alone on an apartment stoop.

He had been so close to asking until Blaine piped up with, "Hon, people are staring. Let's go." Typical shy Blaine, not entirely in his skin and urging to get done what they needed to get done.

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine and motioned to Sam. "I'm here to listen to my friend Sam talk about his heartache. Either you shut up and listen or you go home." Blaine's only option was to sigh and sit on the other side of Sam.

Sam and Blaine took a brief moment to introduce themselves by name before Sam was urged by Kurt to continue. "Here I was, waiting on my princess to wake up and grant my true love's kiss, one that would break off the spell and make me whole, when she kicked me down below and sprayed some sort of burning hot water in my eyes, causing the most infuriating pain, might I add, and sending me out the door without giving me a chance to explain that I have very little time!" He groaned.

Blaine and Kurt exchanged odd looks before they turned their gazes back to Sam. Was he for real? Blaine was highly confused by it all. This man was literally declaring he was a frog that was turned into a human all to gain a kiss from a woman. A woman who, supposedly, lived in the same building as Quinn. He'd heard Quinn speak of her strange neighbors, but he wondered what nut job this boy belonged to.

Kurt, on the other hand, was eating it all up. How adorable could it be that the naked blonde man thought himself to be like a Disney prince? Maybe they were doing something dirty, some kind of role-play, and he was still in character or something, but Kurt couldn't help but find him to be the most endearing and charming person he'd ever met. Here he was, moping about true love's kiss and rambling off a story about being a frog turned into a human all for a kiss and having limited time to get that beloved kiss. It sounded like a fairy tale in the making and he loved it. "Who's your princess?" he asked, once more ignoring a hiss of protest from Blaine.

Sam's head lifted up, his watery eyes full of deep affection as he spoke. "She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said, Kurt accessing the low twang in his voice, something highly Southern sounding, as he spoke. "She is the sun and I am her earth, revolving around her and yearning for her warmth. She is the sea and I the lonely sea man, looking for a vast water to explore. She is my maiden and I her lovesick fool." He was poetic and sweet and charming and gorgeous. Curse the woman who threw him out, Kurt found Sam, while somewhat strange, to be an utter catch. He was all for talking smack to the woman when, in response to Blaine's simple question of "What's her name", Sam's response was, "Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

In that moment, the shorter male, Blaine, grasped Kurt's wrist and pulled him away from the stoop where Sam moped. Sam listened into the low hisses of the two men as they argued.

"Okay, now I'm done. This nut was messing with Quinn!"

"Maybe he was her way to cope with her heartbreak? I'm just assuming he's still in character for some dirty roleplay…"

"No, he's strange, Kurt. He literally believes he's a frog prince and that he needs Quinn's kiss in order to stay human!"

The hisses continued but Sam drowned them out, resuming his moping state. How could Quinn ignore him and throw him out like that? He did exactly as he was supposed to. He went straight to the girl whose kiss brought him to life, changed him into the man he once was long ago. He waited years for this moment and she kicked him out as if he were some crazy man. But for heaven's sake, he wasn't crazy! Sam was truly what he said, and his honorable morals kept him from lying about it. Sighing, he stood up. No sense in sitting there, right? He had to go up and demand Quinn hear him out. Maybe them she would understand and realize her love for him. With hope in his heart, Sam set out to do that.

Before he made it far, he felt a pair of hands grasp his arms, pulling him back. "Oh no you don't," Kurt said, gently shoving Sam against the wall. He gave Kurt and Blaine a look of confusion and annoyance and both males sighed. "We know what you're trying to do, mister! You're trying to go up to Quinn and take advantage of her. Well listen up, sir, my boyfriend talked me out of your charm and I'm not about to let you do anything to my Quinnie." He placed his hands on his hips and glared at Sam. Sam wasn't sure what he was talking about, and gave him a rather blank stare in reply.

For a moment, both men just stood there staring. That was until Kurt sighed and lost his serious resolve, looking at Blaine pleadingly. "I'm just not convinced, Blaine! Look at him. He's clearly not a rapist or anything. He looks so damn lost…"

Blaine had rolled his eyes at that, but once he looked back at Sam he was at a loss for words. The boy's eyes, so vibrant and green, portrayed just what Kurt was seeing. This Sam, however strange, was not the kind of man they were thinking. In fact, he almost looked genuine, as if the silly stories he'd been spitting out were true…

"We can't just leave him here. No matter how weird he sounds… I think he actually loves her," Kurt said, soon interrupted by a voice that wasn't his boyfriend's.

"I do." Both looked to Sam, who gave them the most sincere look they'd ever witnessed.

Kurt just stared at him for a long moment before moving to take off the skirt he wore over his pants. Quickly, he shimmied out of the black cloth and handed it to Sam. "Cover up, darling," he said, before turning to Blaine. "Give him your jacket." Before Blaine could complain about how expensive it was and such, Kurt gave him "the look", the one his boyfriend never refused. With a groan and a string of words muttered beneath his breath, Blaine shed his jacket and handed it to the male who had struggled to pull the skirt up comfortable on his waist. Pulling the jacket on and offering thanks, Sam smiled at the two.

"Why are we doing this?" Blaine asked, looking at Kurt. He could see an odd passionate fire burning in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Because Quinnie needs a Prince Charming," Kurt replied silently before turning to Sam. Hand on the blonde's elbow, he lead him out of the apartment building before hailing a cab. Whoever he was, whatever silly story he had to share, Kurt was determined to groom this man into someone Quinn would not be able to resist, someone perfect for her.

Boy he had a feeling he had his work cut out for him.

* * *

><p>Despite the oddity that was her morning, Quinn went through her normal routine to get ready. She was late, and she cursed that Sam or whatever for that. Kurt and Blaine would be curious and concerned as to why she was so late, but that didn't run through her mind as she grabbed a coffee from the nearby Starbucks and worked her way to 47th and the theater. Along the way her mind wandered back to green eyes and true love's kiss, though she tired with desperation to just ignore these thoughts. It was with no luck, since Quinn was far too engrossed in the strange young man who visited her that morning. She had been fast to assume he was insane and quite possibly looking to take advantage of the young woman when least expected, yet now she was beginning to rethink her assessment of him. The things he said, the look in his eyes… He seemed all too innocent and she was beginning to wonder if it was really necessary for her to have pepper sprayed him and kicked him in the groin.<p>

"Probably," she sighed audibly, "He was probably looking to cop a feel anyway." She was slightly convinced she'd only said that to calm her nerves, but that didn't do the job much for her. She was still far too curious as to what his intentions really were in her bedroom that morning. She couldn't dwell on that for far too long, though, as she now approached the theater.

Entering, Quinn was expecting the stage to be alight with music and director's calls as the cast performed another dress rehearsal of West Side Story, but such wasn't the case. In fact, Quinn was greeted by laughter, gasps, and calls of surprise, as well as an somewhat familiar voice recalling a story…

"And then she had the audacity to spray my eyes with hot water! I tell you, madams, she was not a kind woman. Not nearly open to the idea that maybe, just maybe, true love was right before her. All I wanted was a kiss! A true love's kiss!"

Bile rose in her throat the realization of who owned that deep voice. It was Sam, her bed intruder. He was here, in her workplace. He had to have been stalking her, how else would he know? It freaked her out to no end, and Quinn quickly wondered if she could find Kurt and Blaine without Sam noticing her so that she could call the caps and get the psycho out of there. A psych ward somewhere must be missing him anyway. Her hopes at getting him escorted by the law enforcement were crushed when she recognized Kurt's high-pitched laughs amongst the ones laughing in response to Sam's wild story. It was only then that Quinn realized, at the mention of being shoved out, was the young man telling the whole company, her dear friends and colleagues, the story of their meeting that morning. And instead of the men wondering what freak would sneak into a woman's home naked like he did, they were laughing, completely entertained by it.

Heart heavy and jaw clenched, Quinn raised her chin as she strolled onto the stage, greeted with the sight of a fully dressed cast of actors—saved for Blaine and Kurt—sitting around the stage and a young and handsome blonde man standing atop a set of risers to tell his story. She had to stop walking when she saw him. Sam was fully dressed now, wearing a light blue colored button up, sleeves rolled casually to the elbows, beneath a wool camel vest and a pair of dark brown trousers and shiny brown shoes. Fully dressed, Quinn found she could appreciate just how handsome that face of his was more now than before, and was caught dead in her tracks just staring at his smiling face.

She had gone unnoticed for a long moment until Sam's gaze fell on her, and her breath caught in her throat at that large and happy grin spreading over his face. However, she had to tear her gaze from him when she heard Kurt declare a rather shocked sounding "Quinnie!" while crossing the stage to her. Blaine followed behind like the lovesick puppy he was, but Quinn paid little attention to them or the worried glances they spared her. Her eyes were back on Sam, who seemed the happiest man alive solely at the sight of her. Ignoring Kurt and Blaine as they tried to speak to her in hushed towns, Quinn walked straight towards the risers, a fiery look in her honey colored eyes that matched the burning sensation in her chest. The quickening of her heart at the sight of that silly smile of his was no match for her anger as Quinn shouted over all the laughter and idle chitchat on the stage. "What are you doing here? Did you know I worked here?" Her tone was venomous and her glare deadly. It caused Sam to shiver, and not in delight.

Kurt and Blaine followed up behind Quinn, speaking lowly to calm her, but she raised a hand to silence them, immediately granting all mumbling and murmuring to cease on the spot. Sam was put on the spot now, and he was expected to answer her. Looking back at her angered eyes, he swallowed before shaking his head. "I didn't know you worked here," he answered sincerely and sweetly, childlike innocence shining off of him.

Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. He had to have known. Cleary he was obsessed with her. Why? She had no clue, but she knew a stalker when she saw one. She could hear Kurt try to speak, but spoke over him. "Then _what_ are you doing here? If not to follow me around and catch me at a vulnerable moment you pig!" Sam seemed taken back by that, though it was not him who responded to the question.

"Quinnie," Kurt's calm and even voice called from behind. The blonde faced the soprano, ready to shout at him for interrupting, but was beat by Kurt's voice answering, "This is my cousin, Sam Evans. He's visiting from the South. He's actually here to share the storyline to the next production we plan on doing. An original actually… _A Frog Prince from Central Park_." Kurt let out that awkward little laugh of his, staring up into Quinn's unbelieving eyes. He swallowed before pulling her aside. "Look," he spoke lowly, for no one else but himself, Quinn and Blaine to hear, "I'm sorry about this morning, okay? My cousin saw you leave the theater, and he was instantly smitten. He declared you his muse and had to follow you in order to come up with the story."

It sounded ridiculous to Quinn, and her only response was a not so hushed hiss of, "So he followed me home and lay naked in my bed until _morning_, and then had the decency to try and _kiss_ me?"

Kurt had to think quickly to cover for their odd friend, who watched the scene in confusion. "He's an artist, Quinn! They have weird methods. I know I should've warned you about him earlier but, really, he's harmless. I mean, look at him!" They all quickly peered over to Sam, who offered a small and confused smile. Quinn sighed. She hated to admit it, but Kurt was right, that boy looked innocent as a baby. Kurt seemed to sense this and sighed internally in relief. "Look, just… Forget it ever happened, okay? I won't let him do anything along those lines ever again. Really. Scout's honor and such."

"You were never a boys scout," Quinn interjected, causing an eye roll from Kurt.

"Whatever, you get my point," the soprano said, "Just don't give him any more crap. Really. It was all under artistic vision and he's sorry."

It was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes as she began turning away, her gaze still on Kurt. "I could argue that he's more sorry I hurt him than he is sorry he did anything, but I couldn't care less right now. I'm here to let you know I'll be taking a league of absence for a month."

This caught Sam's attention. Ignoring the others in the room—all of which Sam through were actual women and did not know were men like him—Sam turned his full attention on Quinn as Kurt asked, "Wait, why?"

"I need to go home to Charleston. I have no until the twenty first," Quinn replied.

_The twenty-first? What could Quinn have to do before the Equinox?_ Sam wondered. He furrowed his brow, stepping closer to the group, as Blaine asked, "You aren't going for _him_, are you?"

"Of course it's for him! If I don't stop the wedding before then, I'm going to lose the one man I've ever loved." Quinn was about to continue when she bumped into a tall and hard body. Looking over her shoulder, she blinked and blushed at the realization that she backed up into Sam—a rather confused and shocked looking Sam. She quickly pulled away from him, sending a confused and irritated glance of her own in his direction, as she said, and "If I'm going to win Finn's heart back, I need to leave now" Her voice trailed off as she saw an odd glimmer of sadness overcome and cloud up those beautiful emerald eyes of Sam's. She almost frowned in reply, but caught herself last minute. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Kurt and Blaine.

"Quinnie, sweetie, I know that you're unhappy, but you have to let that go. Finn chose Rachel. He loves _her_ and is going to marry her. I'm sorry, Q, but that's just how it is. You need to accept that," Kurt tried, but stubborn Quinn shook her head and glared at him.

"No. I won't accept it until I know for a fact he doesn't want me." From behind her, Sam was frowning deeply, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach for the second time that day. Of course the girl had rejected him that morning. She didn't love Sam, she loved another—a "Finn", whoever that could be, though he figured, with a name like that, he was some kind of enchanted fish or something. Nonetheless, Quinn's heart belonged to another, and that _killed_ him. Now he was only reminded he had no chance with her…

"What are you going to do?" Blaine asked, causing Sam to pay attention to the scene unfolding before him again rather than stay lost in his growing depression.

Quinn casted a side-glance to Sam oddly before turning full attention back on Blaine. "I'm going to run to Charleston and tell him I love him and hope he does the right thing and picks me," she answered matter-of-factly, raising her chin slightly. "Finn will see, he's making a huge mistake and he should be with me." Confidence poured from her voice as she spoke and Sam wasn't sure whether to admire this quality in the woman he was in deep for or whether to feel sad it had nothing to do with him but had all to do with another.

"Quinnie, don't," Kurt tried to reason, but Quinn cut him off.

"This isn't up for discussion. I'm just stopping in to say this. Now I have to go and pack and rush to the airport or something." She cast one last glance at Sam, brows knitted in the center at his sad expression, before she turned and began walking to the stage door exit.

"…Well that was fortunate," Kurt said bitterly and sarcastically. He felt Blaine's arm circle his shoulders and squeeze his far shoulder before he turned to look at Sam, who was staring after where Quinn disappeared to with a longing glance.

"What am I going to do now?" Sam asked sadly, stepping more towards the two men, though he still faced the exit where Quinn disappeared. "He heart belongs to another. I can't compete with that," he said. He felt all hope leave him and began to mentally prepare himself to live the life of a frog for eternity.

That was until Kurt spoke up.

"No. We're not giving up like that. Finn's not the guy for her. They would've been together by now," he said, crossing his arms and staring in the same direction as the exit with a rather thoughtful look in his eyes. Blaine could already hear the gears turning in that head of his, knowing Kurt was a fast thinker but was often known for wild and somewhat crazy plots. Whatever could Kurt Hummel be thinking up now?

"Well what I am I supposed to do? She doesn't want me," Sam sighed.

Kurt's head snapped up and Blaine knew what that meant. "Yet," Kurt said thoughtfully, "She doesn't want you _yet_." He stepped forward a bit before spinning on his heels, looking back at a confused Blaine and a heartbroken Sam. "As to what you're going to do, it's quite simple really," Kurt answered, a mischievous smirk growing over his think pink lips. "Chase her to Charleston, South Carolina and show her just who she belongs with, and get yourself that true love's kiss you've been craving."

"After all," Kurt said, an even more dangerously devious glint of mischief twinkling in his sapphire eyes, "I need an ending to my fairy tale production I'm putting on."

Sam blinked as he heard Kurt's idea. It seemed a bit much, like a far fetch to chase after the girl whose heart belonged to another, but it was better than sitting around and waiting on spring to come and change him back. That last thing he needed was eternity as a frog. Swallowing, Sam nodded slowly.

"Okay. Let's go then."


End file.
